The rough trail felt endless, the SUV bouncing violently over rocks and dips as Ethan drove with sharp focus. My hands were shaking as I clutched Ava to me, my mind racing with thoughts of who could be pursuing us—Castellano's men or, worse, Ferraro's. The weight of it pressed down on me with suffocating intensity.
Martha sat tense in the front seat, her hands gripping the dashboard, her eyes wide with fear. The forest around us felt like a labyrinth, endless rows of trees closing in on all sides as the car swerved to avoid larger branches and dips in the trail. It was a race against time, and I could feel every second slipping away.
Ethan was silent as he drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched with determination. He didn't need to say anything—I knew exactly what he was thinking. We weren't out of danger yet, and we might never be.
